


I Want It All

by Beulaugh



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Aged up characters, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, And I mean slow, Buckle up, Childhood Friends, Dad!Sander, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, POV Robbe IJzermans, POV Sander Driesen, Pining, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Sander is a single dad, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Story jumps back and forth in time, Time Skips, asynchronous storytelling, lots of pining, shifting pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29961411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beulaugh/pseuds/Beulaugh
Summary: For some reason Sander and Robbe find out they’re soulmates when they’re absurdly young (5 & 7), so they grow up as best friends, essentially friend-zoning each other completely because gross. Obviously. A major life event changes everything and forces them to realize what everyone else already knows.orRobbe and Sander decide to raise a baby together as platonic soulmates. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 20
Kudos: 44





	I Want It All

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Of Lemon Drops and Lizard-Cats](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6605428) by [supercalvin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercalvin/pseuds/supercalvin). 



> This idea wouldn't leave me alone. I've never written a soulmates au before, and I'm honestly unfamiliar with the tropes. Hopefully this isn't too far off the mark. 
> 
> The idea came from watching BBC Merlin and seeing two obviously in love soulmates wander around blindly thinking they were just friends, and it got me thinking about how that could be possible, which lead me to wonder how I could make it applicable to Sobbe. And here we are. 
> 
> The last chapter of this story was heavily inspired style-wise by Supercalvin's Of Lemon Drops and Lizard-Cats, arguably the most wonderful, beautiful, fluffy fic I've ever read. It's downright gorgeous. I was a pile of mushy goo by the end, and I recommend it to anyone with even a passing interest in Merthur. I've linked it as inspiration because everyone should read it. Ugh, the feels!
> 
> My goal is for this to be 4 chapters long. We start in the present, visit the past, and then move into the future. Each chapter takes place at a different time in their relationship. 
> 
> Rating (T) is for language only. No warnings.

Robbe was lounging on his patched couch, feet resting on the opposite arm rest, fingers unconsciously stroking the dark pattern that encircled his right wrist, idly watching television with glazed eyes when his phone suddenly blasted “Rebel Rebel.” _Sander_. He shot up. That was Sander’s ringtone, something he’d programmed himself when Robbe was 16. A call, not a text. It could only mean one thing. It was time.

Pawing at his phone, still slightly out of it, he hit the green button and answered, “Yeah?”

“It’s time. She just went into labor. We’ll be checking into the hospital in the next hour.”

“Okay. Good. How are you doing?”

He could almost hear the nervous panic in Sander’s voice as he said, “Good. Fine. I’m excited. I’m fine. No. I’m terrified. I don’t know what I’m doing, Robbe.” His voice lowered on the last sentence, sounding dejected.

“Hey, hey,” Robbe consoled. “You’re going to be great. I know you will. It’s okay to be scared. It’s going to be fine, and I’ll be here to help you. Anytime. Always.” Robbe let his knees bounce nervously, but he succeeded in keeping his voice even when he added, “You’re going to be a great dad. I know it.”

“Thanks Robbe. You’re the best.”

A small smile lifted Robbe’s lips as he said, “I know. And don’t you forget it! Are you sure you don’t need me at the hospital?”

“I’m sure. Both my mom and Hanna’s mom will be there. It’s when I get home…”

“I know. I’ll take care of everything. Don’t worry. Today’s a big day for you. Focus on that, and I’ll make sure everything is ready.”

“Thanks. I can’t believe it’s happening.”

“It is. And you’ll be fine. She’s a lucky girl. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Robbe immediately flopped back on the couch, tossing his phone into the cushions, and brought his hands to his face, rubbing them along his stubbled cheeks and jaw. He saw stars behind his eyes when he pushed on them too hard, and then briefly fisted his hair before exploding off of the couch in a burst of nerves. 

This was happening. His soulmate was going to be a dad. Sander was having a baby. 

Robbe now had a list of to-dos. Responsibilities. Things that needed to be done before Sander came home from the hospital.

He shook out his hands and bounced on his toes, like he was preparing for a fight, and then turned to find his phone, now hidden deep in the cushions. He needed to call his mom and text Carlos.

He started with his mother. She was ecstatic, gushing about wrinkles, diapers, bottles, and cute outfits. Robbe and Sander had been soulmates and best friends for eighteen years, and she looked upon Sander as another son. As the least involved person in this situation, she was arguably the most excited, ready to take her honorary grandma status seriously. She started rattling off advice and asking questions, her voice practically screeching when she asked if Sander had decided on a name yet. 

Robbe sighed, “Amelia or Rebel. He can’t decide.” His mom then cooed over both names, making his head ache.

He didn’t honestly understand all the fuss and personally thought babies looked like wrinkly old men, but he was more than grateful when she offered to cook a few meals and then drop them off the next day. 

Whatever he’d told Sander earlier, he was worried. Very worried. Neither he nor Sander had ever held a baby, let alone cared for one, and Sander only knew more about babies than Robbe because he’d been reading parenting books during Hanna’s pregnancy. 

Even worse, Robbe didn’t even know what his role would be. How would he fit into Sander’s life now? How and where would Sander need him most? How would the baby affect their friendship? He was closer than family and yet not family. He just didn’t know what to expect, and it made him nauseous. Sander was the one constant in his life, and now he feared that might change. 

On top of that, he had his own life--a flat, a job, a boyfriend--his own responsibilities and stresses, and yet he was more concerned about his soulmate, who was about to raise a baby on his own. 

_Sander would be a single dad sometime in the next 36 hours._ It was that thought that jolted Robbe out of his own head and brought him back to his mom’s excited voice. He quickly said goodbye, and then shot off a text to Carlos.

Friday 13:11

Robbe: Hey. I’m going to have to cancel tomorrow. Hanna went into labor, and I need to take care of a few things for Sander. He’ll probably be home Monday.

He waited a few moments for a reply, knowing that Carlos would be irritated at best. He wasn’t disappointed. Three dots appeared rather quickly. Then they disappeared for a minute and then popped back up again. Eventually, he responded.

Carlos: Why can’t his mother do it? 

Robbe: She’ll be at the hospital with him.

Carlos: Father? Sister? Another friend? You’re not the only person in his life you know?

Robbe: I’m sorry. We knew this could happen when we scheduled it. We can get reservations another day. I promise.

Robbe: And

Robbe: I want to do this for him. I need to be there for him when he comes home. I know you don’t understand it, but it’s important to me.

Three dots popped on and off multiple times, but nothing came for several minutes. Sander had always been a sore spot in their relationship, and while he had ignored Carlos’s dig, he was angry. Why did they constantly have to fight over Sander? Why couldn’t Carlos (or any of his boyfriends, if he was honest) understand that Sander wasn’t just his best friend? They were soulmates, bonded life partners. He unconsciously touched his wrist. Even if they weren’t interested in each other romantically, that bond still existed. They were a package deal. Loving Robbe meant accepting Sander. Why was that so hard to understand? Almost as if he was reading his mind, Carlos’s response made him see red.

Carlos: This is weird. You know that, right? 

Carlos: Your whole relationship is weird, and now he’s going to be a dad. It’s just…

Carlos: Weird

Robbe wanted to rage and fume and yell at him, but he held it in, deciding instead to confront him about it after the baby came home.

Robbe: That was really rude

Robbe: But I know you don’t get it

Robbe: I’ll call you Tuesday, and we’ll figure it out then

Carlos: Ok. Fine.

Robbe threw his phone at the couch again, but this time it bounced and thudded on the floor. He didn’t care. He didn’t pick it up. He walked into the kitchen and made himself lunch while trying to remember everything he needed to do. 

Robbe sat on the floor in the baby’s room of Sander’s flat later that night. Of course the crib that had been back ordered came on the very same day Hanna went into labor. Robbe stared at the directions, rotating them left and right in the hopes that it would make things more clear, and then glared at the wooden pieces, willing them to fly together on their own. 

When they didn’t move of their own accord, he turned back to the directions and slowly, with many mistakes and much cursing, began assembling the wooden monstrosity piece by blasted piece. Leave it to Sander to choose a crib with lots of curves and angles. No straight lines and easy corners, no. Of course, not. 

Robbe cried out as the screwdriver slipped, stabbing him in the leg. He cursed and moved it back to the screw, tightening it again while grumbling under his breath. By the time he finished, it was well after midnight. He was too exhausted to walk home, and since he planned on spending most of tomorrow at Sander’s place anyway, he decided to spend the night. He quickly brushed his teeth and put on a pair of sweats from the drawer of clothes he kept at Sander’s. He fell asleep almost the moment his head hit Sander’s pillow. 

He woke up late the next morning to a text from Sander.

Saturday 11:11

Sander: Amelia Drieson born 10:23, 3.4 kilos, 51 cm

Sander: She’s perfect, Robbe. Perfect.

Saturday 11:31

Robbe: Congratulations!

Robbe: Of course she’s perfect. She’s yours!

Robbe: I took care of the crib. Get some sleep!

Sander: Thanks. I’ll try.

_Amelia. Amelia Drieson. Sander’s daughter. Sander’s daughter Amelia._ Robbe tried to wrap his brain around the idea that Sander now had a daughter. It didn’t seem possible. They’d had nine months to prepare, and he still could hardly believe it. He had a feeling that it wouldn’t feel real until she came home. Then, he thought, it would become all too real. 

He should text Carlos and let him know, but he felt his stomach drop as he reached for his phone. Carlos would be obnoxious, not supportive. His stomach churned at the idea of having another row with him about Sander, so, instead, he texted his mom the news before padding out to the kitchen to make breakfast. 

He spent the rest of the day grocery shopping, prepping meals, sterilizing a gazillion bottles, and finishing up the crib in the nursery. He added a fitted sheet and attached the mobile, a creation Sander had designed and painted himself. The top was a giant star, painted a myriad of blues and purples and speckled with white to resemble a galaxy, and hanging from the star was the solar system, different sized globes and moons hand painted by Sander that revolved around the giant orange and yellow sun dangling in the middle. It was a stunning work of art, and Robbe felt pride well up in his heart as he gave it a quick spin before leaving the room. He knew Sander was talented, but it was little things like this, the detail and care he’d put into making it perfect, that reminded Robbe of just how special he was.

He collapsed onto Sander’s plush couch and checked his phone. It was 19:13. He could go home. He could call Carlos. He could get take away. But, he was honestly too tired to go anywhere, and the person he really wanted to talk to was Sander. On a whim, he called him, half hoping it would go to voicemail, not entirely sure why he felt nervous.

Sander answered on the third ring. “Hey.” He sounded tired, his voice heavy and deep.

“Hey, I didn’t wake you did I?”

“No. I was up. Amelia just had a bottle, and I needed to sign some custody paperwork.”

“Ah. Everything ok?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. It’s good to hear your voice.”

Robbe sighed, relaxing, relieved to know Sander missed him too. “You too. It’s weird here without you.”

“It’ll be weird there with me from now on.”

“Never. You know that. It’ll be….different,” he said, trying to sound confident. “But different can be good.”

“True.”

“And--” he paused, trying to sort out his thoughts, “Change can be good.”

“Yeah.” The line was quiet for a few moments. Then he added, “Thanks, Robbe. Really. For everything. You’re my rock. I’d be lost without you.”

Robbe’s stomach did a weird little flip, and he rubbed his wrist absently. “Yeah, you would,” he smiled, trying to keep it light. “You’d never be able to find your socks or your spare change, and you’d always run out of food. I’m not convinced you’d eat every day.”

“Maybe, but you know what I mean.”

“I do. You know I do.”

“God,” he sighed, “This has made me so emotional. Sorry. I don’t mean to blubber at you.”

“I think you have a pass for the next few months, maybe years. Don’t worry. I think you’re supposed to be emotional right now.”

“Yeah, well. Still, I’m sorry. I’ll try not to unleash the waterworks on you.”

“You can. Anytime, though I promise to pick on you so you feel like everything’s normal.”

“Thanks.” Robbe could hear the sarcasm in his voice, and it made him smile, knowing that Sander might be tired and overwrought, but he was still in there. 

“Hey, you get some sleep while you can. I don’t want to keep you. I just wanted to hear your voice. Let me know when you’ll be home, and I’ll make sure to be here.”

“I will. Night.”

“Night.”

Robbe threw the phone onto the coffee table and lay back on the couch, arm resting over his eyes. Everything was fine. It would be fine. Sander needed him to be strong. He couldn’t freak out. He could do this. He could be Amelia’s godfather and keep Sander sane. Sure. Fine. Sure. 

He wasn’t okay. At all. 

Against his will his breathing increased, and he could feel his heart racing. It pounded in his ears. Pressure built in his chest, filling his body with heat and making him sweat. For a moment he felt like he might explode out of his skin. 

Nerves, fears, and an unidentifiable emotional queasiness overwhelmed him. He was 23. His soulmate, his platonic soulmate, was taking a huge step forward in life, and whether Robbe was ready or not, he was along for the ride. He’d never regretted meeting Sander when he was 5. He’d never regretted the fact that their soulmate bond didn’t follow the traditional romantic path. He wasn’t upset that Hanna had gotten pregnant or that Sander had chosen to raise the baby. 

He was just afraid of change. Afraid that Sander wouldn’t need him, that Sander wouldn’t want him anymore, that Sander wouldn’t have time for him. The most important person in his life now had a different most important person, and he felt terrible for feeling this way. The guilt overwhelmed him. Amelia was less than a day old. He was jealous of a baby. How ridiculous! 

He curled himself into a ball, wrapping himself around his right hand, eyes pinched closed, pressing his wrist into his chest as if it could reach his heart, and allowed himself a few more moments to wallow in self pity, and then he consciously relaxed his muscles and slowed his breathing, taking deep breaths through his nose and out his mouth. Once he had himself under control, he gave himself a mental pep talk. 

He would be strong. He would support Sander no matter what. He would be there for Amelia. He’d never let Sander know of his insecurities, never let him see his fear. He’d be the best friend Sander needed, and somehow they’d survive. They would. They were soulmates, and even if things changed, they’d always have each other. 

With that, he ordered take out and spent the night on Sander’s couch watching television.

  
  


Early Monday afternoon Sander entered the flat, eyes slightly bloodshot, eyelids heavy, brown hair a tousled mess. He carried a car seat in one hand and had a diaper bag slung over one shoulder. Even with his exhaustion, his smile brightened when he saw Robbe standing in front of the couch, wide eyes fixed on his face. 

“Hey,” he said, putting down the bag and the carrier. He opened his arms, and Robbe ran into his embrace. They held each other silently for several minutes. Robbe let his eyes close, and he inhaled. Sander smelled of the hospital, disinfectant and sanitizer, but he also smelled familiar, comforting.

Pulling away, Sander said, “I’d like to introduce you to someone. She fell asleep in the car, so hopefully I can get her in bed without waking her up.” Sander squatted down and unbuckled the straps, gently lifting Amelia out of the car seat and carrying her to the nursery. Robbe marveled at how delicately he held her, like she was the most precious treasure in the world.

He laid her down and whispered, “Robbe, meet Amelia. Amelia, meet Robbe. He’s your godfather. You’re going to love him.”

The corner of Robbe’s mouth lifted and he turned his eyes from Sander to the sleeping baby. His heart nearly exploded in his chest. Amelia was perfect. Perfect. She had a smattering of blond hair, a sweet snub of a nose, full lips, and the longest, most delicate fingers. Sander had dressed her in rainbow footie pajamas, and her right arm was thrown over her head as she slept, fingers curled into fists. 

In an instant he knew that he’d do anything for her. He’d slay a dragon for her. He’d hurt anyone who made her cry. He’d lay down his life to protect her. She was beautiful, and he already loved her with all his heart. The immediacy and fierceness of his emotions caught him by surprise, and his eyes welled up with tears. 

Sander pulled him into a side hug and bumped his head against Robbe’s. “I know, right? It’s crazy. She’s already got me wrapped around her little finger. You’re such a pushover, I’m sure it’ll be even worse with you. She’ll probably convince you to take her to the tattoo parlor at ten.”

“Fuck you,” he whispered back, bumping his hip. “But you’re probably right.”

Sander smiled and pulled him back out to the living room. They sank onto the couch, legs overlapping and resting in each other’s laps as they leaned against opposite arm rests. Robbe’s hands rested on Sander’s shins, and Sander played idly with Robbe’s ankles while he rested his head against the back of the couch.

Robbe took the time to truly look at Sander. At first glance he just looked tired, but now that Robbe had time, he could see that Sander seemed to have been rubbed raw. Scraped out. It was more than exhaustion. He was emotionally spent. It showed in the heaviness of his shoulders and the unnatural downturn of his lips, but more than anything Robbe could see it in his eyes. Normally, Sander’s green eyes shone with life and vitality, glowing bright with warmth, teasing and a little ironic. Now they seemed almost dark, flat, the light dimmed, a panic filled terror seeping through instead.

Until now, Robbe hadn’t realized how scared shitless Sander actually was. The man seated across from him was absolutely terrified, and again Robbe felt guilty. He’d be so focused on his own worries and fears, his own insecurities, that he’d completely missed how much it was eating up his friend. He’d hid it well, covering it up with laughter and jokes, but Robbe still felt he should have noticed. He should have been a better friend.

Sander had so much more to fear and worry about. He was taking on the greatest of responsibilities, alone, at 25. Somehow he had to keep her alive.

And healthy.

And happy.

And safe.

And fulfilled.

And challenged.

And so many things that came with parenthood. No wonder his shoulders seemed weighted down. 

Before his brain even caught up to his mouth, he blurted out, “I want to move back in.”

Sander sat up slightly, eyes confused. “What?”

He swallowed, hesitating, while his mind processed his words. He hadn’t thought it through and hadn’t even considered it before now, but he knew with complete certainty, the same certainty he’d felt seeing Amelia for the first time, that he wanted to move back in with Sander and help raise her. He wanted to share this burden--no, not burden...challenge...experience--with Sander. He didn’t want Sander to feel that he was alone, that it all rested on his shoulders. He wanted to be there, to be his rock.

“I want to move back in.”

Sander’s voice was warm and tired, almost indulgent, like he didn’t believe it. “Okay. But why?”

“Because I want to, of course.”

“You’ve not mentioned it before. If I remember correctly, you’ve thoroughly enjoyed having your own place.”

“Well,” Robbe answered honestly, “I didn’t know I’d want to until now.”

“Okay. But still, why? I need more than that.” Sander pinched his toes, punctuating each word with a quick squeeze.

Robbe squirmed a little under both Sander’s touch and his scrutiny. He thought for a moment, trying to decide how much he should say. After a questioning and slightly exasperated eyebrow raise from Sander, he finally answered, “Because you're my soulmate. I want to be here for you. I didn’t know it until ten minutes ago, but I want to be here for Amelia too. I love you. I already love Amelia more than I thought possible, and I haven’t even held her yet. We both knew I was going to be involved somehow in some way, and I know that neither of us knew what that would be. Honestly,” he sighed, “It stressed me out. I didn’t know what I’d be to you or her. Now I know how I want to be involved. I want to be here. Every day. Living it with you. Being here for both of you. Relieving some of your worries and stress. Taking on some of the responsibilities.”

Sander’s eyes had grown wide with astonishment. Robbe cut him off before he could say anything, “I know. I know. Total 180. Who knew, right? There’s a maxim, that’s obviously not completely true because, you know, you, but they say that women become moms the second they get pregnant, but dads become dads when the baby is born. It becomes real. Tangible. Now,” he waved his hands, flustered, and a little panicked that Sander might misunderstand, “I’m not saying I’m her dad or anything. Err," he panicked some more, "I just mean, maybe it was like that for me. She had to be here, real, before I understood…” He trailed off.

“Fuuuck,” Robbe groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. “I’m babbling here spouting nonsense, and you probably think this is a terrible idea. You were probably looking forward to getting to know each other on your own. Sorry, shit. I’m a terrible friend.” His emotions had taken a complete turn, spiraling from confidence about what he wanted into insecurity about whether Sander agreed, and of course, it was Sander’s choice. Amelia was his, no matter that Robbe had already begun to think of her as theirs. She was Sander’s daughter, not his, and he needed to remember that. 

Robbe moved to stand, but Sander firmly held onto his legs, saying seriously, “No, you’re a great friend. But what about Carlos?”

“Oh,” Robbe said, not even pausing to think about an answer, “He’ll either get over it or not. I don’t really care.”

“Maybe don’t present it like that, hmm.” Sander’s eyes brightened a little, warming Robbe’s heart.

“Shut up,” Robbe smiled. Then he had another thought, and continued, “And you know, well, if you meet someone--when you’re ready to date again, I mean--If it becomes serious...well, I promise I’ll move out any time you want.”

“That’s very unlikely,” Sander grinned.

“Which part?”

“I was specifically referring to the wanting you to leave part, but I doubt I’ll be dating any time soon. Even if I wanted to, I won’t have time.”

Robbe beamed. His stomach fluttered a little, but he ignored it. “Wait. Do you want me to move in? Are you okay with this? You don’t think I’m slightly unhinged?”

Sander lifted an eyebrow, “Do you really want me to answer that last one?”

Robbe rolled his eyes, but he felt himself smiling like an idiot.

“To answer your questions,” Sander said, hands now stroking light circles on Robbe’s shins, making his skin tingle and his heart rate increase, “I think it’s a great idea. A perfect idea. It’s honestly what I’ve wanted all along, but I didn’t think I had the right to even want it, let alone ask for it. If there is anyone I want to share Amelia with, it's you." Robbe's wrist burned, and he rubbed at it absently. "If I could choose one person to influence her most, it would be you. And I do think you’re a bit mad if you want to give up your carefree, single lifestyle and possibly your boyfriend to help me raise my daughter, but I’m so relieved, so grateful, and so happy that you suggested it, that I really don’t have it in me to put up a fuss. So, yes. Please.”

Robbe’s relief burst out of him in an explosion of nervous giggles. As they subsided, he grinned stupidly at Sander and realized Sander looked just as dopey, his hand absently rubbing the circlet on his left wrist as he gazed at Robbe. Robbe poked his knee, eliciting a giggle, and then melted back into the cushions, feeling more relaxed and calm than he’d felt in a long time.

A weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how much his worries about their future had weighed him down. Now that they had a plan, and he knew where they stood, he felt all the tension release. It felt amazing, like he could fall asleep here on the couch with no worries in the world. 

Sander, it seemed, was experiencing a similar sense of relief. His shoulders had dropped away from his ears, and the light in his eyes had returned. While they weren’t as bright and lively as usual, the shine told Robbe that Sander was feeling better and would be fine.

“Fuck,” Robbe exclaimed loudly, realizing something important.

“If you’re moving in, I’m going to need to get you a swear jar,” Sander interjected.

Robbe side eyed him and muttered, “Asshole.”

“Yep, I’m going to love taking all your money.” He rubbed his hands together, waggling his eyebrows, aiming for evil villain and landing somewhere between ridiculous and nerdy.

“Idiot,” muffled Robbe, trying to hide a chuckle by turning his face into the couch. Turning back to Sander, he said, “Though seriously,” he pointed to the nursery, “I don’t have a room anymore. Someone stole it.”

“Oh yeah, shit. Hadn’t thought of that.”

“Swear jar, hmmm.”

“Shut it!” He pinched Robbe’s calf. Robbe squealed and kicked him in the chest. He grunted and pretended to flick the offending leg away from him. Robbe just poked him in the chest with his toes and tried to make his legs heavier. 

“I’ll just sleep on the couch. It’s fine.”

“No way!” Sander cried. “No. That wouldn’t be fair. A night or two here wouldn’t kill you, but if you sleep on this couch every night, you’ll end up with a crooked back or something. No. You’ve slept with me before. It’s no big deal. We can share my bed, and who knows, with three of us here, we might need a bigger flat eventually.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose, and you’ll be desperate to get sleep. You already look like the walking dead, and it’s day three. I don’t mind sleeping out here to start until we figure something else out.”

“No. My bed makes the most sense. We’ll make it work. You’ll just have to sleep with me.”

“Okay,” he said casually, and it surprised him when his skin felt suddenly warm and a swooping sensation roiled through his belly. Maybe he was getting sick. He promised to check his temperature later just in case. 

Before he had time to think any more about it, Sander had flopped over on top of him, pulling him into an embrace and resting his head on Robbe’s chest. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Robbe laughed, wrapping his arms around Sander. “What for?”

Sander rubbed his cheek into Robbe’s chest and whispered, “For reading my mind.” He squeezed Robbe a little harder. “We’re going to raise a baby.”

Robbe shivered, that weird feeling returning deep in his belly, but he ignored it and ran his fingers through Sander’s hair. “We are,” he agreed firmly. “Let’s get some sleep. I imagine she’ll be waking up soon.”

Robbe called out of work the next day and spent it making phone calls and plans. He needed to cancel his lease, pack his belongings, and figure out where to drop off or give away the few larger pieces of furniture that weren’t coming with him. His mother agreed to take his bed back until he needed it again, and when he asked for advice, Zoe insisted he trash the couch. Looking at the ugly color and the many patches, he couldn’t help agreeing with her and made the arrangements. 

He also texted Carlos in the morning, sharing the news about Amelia’s birth and requesting that they meet for dinner. He agreed, which is why Robbe found himself sitting at a back table in Carlos’s favorite restaurant.

As usual, Carlos was late. Twenty minutes late. If he hadn’t been annoyed, he might have broken the news more carefully, but his nerves mixed with Carlos’s constant disregard for his time, practically forced him to declare--even before Carlos had sat down--“I’m moving in with Sander.”

“What the fuck? You’re joking,” Carlos responded derisively. “That’s ridiculous.” 

“It’s not. He’s my soulmate. She’s my goddaughter. I want to,” Robbe explained, trying to stay calm.

“That’s--that’s fucking ridiculous,” he spat out. “She’s not your responsibility. He’s not your boyfriend. You didn’t knock anyone up.”

“Hey! That’s uncalled for. They were engaged at the time. And you’re wrong. He is my responsibility, and I want her to be my responsibility. I offered.” 

“I knew it!”

Robbe just dropped his forehead into his hands, elbows on the table, not even bothering to ask.

“You’re in love with him! I knew it.”

Robbe lifted his head and gave him a long suffering look. “Don’t go there. We’ve had this discussion too many times already.”

“C’mon Robbe, seriously. You two might as well be married. It makes my skin crawl, and it’s probably why neither of you has been able to make a relationship work.”

“The fuck!” sputtered Robbe. Married? They were the furthest thing from married. That was ridiculous! And gross. Really gross, right? He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Please, can we discuss this like adults? I asked you to meet me in person because I knew you wouldn’t like it, and I wanted to reassure you that it wasn’t a problem.”

“It’s definitely a problem!”

“You’re right. There is a problem,” Robbe agreed quietly, ice filling his voice. “But it’s not Sander, and it’s not me moving back in with him. The problem is that you’re an asshole who can’t get over the fact that I also love my best friend.”

“See! You admit it!”

“Oh my God, you’re dense.” Robbe pinched the bridge of his nose. “For the last time, I’ve known him since I was still wetting the bed, and he had Ninja Turtle bed sheets! You can love a person without being in love with them. It’s a thing.”

“I agree, but it’s not your thing. Believe me. It’s not.” He looked resigned, the fight seeming to leave him.

“Carlos,” Robbe dove deep to retrieve a kind voice, “I think we know where this is going. Let’s just call it now before we say anything else we might regret.”

“Yeah, okay.” 

He stood up to leave, but Robbe grabbed his wrist, changing his mind. “I’m sorry.” Carlos’s eyes narrowed, so Robbe elaborated, “I’m sorry that I couldn’t make you believe that I cared for you. I did care. I do care. I would have even been willing to work this out, but…”

Carlos’s eyes softened. “I don’t know what hurts more. The fact that I know you mean it, that you believe what you’re saying, or the fact that you are completely oblivious and unaware of how you truly feel. But, thank you...for that. Good luck, Robbe.”

Robbe dropped his wrist, and as he strode away, he called, “You too,” to his back.

It took several days to get everything organized and taken care of. Jens, Milan, and Senne helped him load his things into two cars and then were really good sports about carrying it up the three flights of stairs leading to Sander’s flat. Luca hooked him up with a friend from Uni who owned a pickup truck to cart his bed back to his mom’s, his dresser and wardrobe over to Sander’s, and the couch to the dump. Amber even helped by suggesting a friend who could take over his lease.

By Friday evening he stood in an empty flat, handing over the keys to someone named Janis. In just a week, his life had completely changed. He had no boyfriend, no flat, and now a baby.

The whirlwind of changes had kept him from spending a lot of time with Sander and Amelia, and he had missed them dreadfully. He was looking forward to going home and staying home. 

It was 21:00 by the time Robbe entered the flat. Afraid he might wake Amelia up from a nap, he chose not to call or text first and used his key to enter even though his hands were full.

The lights in the flat were off, and just as he put his things down and moved to turn on the light, he spied a figure on the couch. He moved to check on them, and what he saw changed his world forever. His vision blurred momentarily and then narrowed, zeroing in on Sander. It was like he’d been seeing the world through a wide lens, and now he had a microscope.

Sander lay on his back asleep, shirtless, one arm arced over his head and the other resting solidly on Amelia’s back. She lay directly on his sternum, wearing nothing but a diaper, butt bumped up in the air and fingers curled in his light chest hair.

Robbe’s heart stopped. His everything stopped. He stared and realized he couldn’t stop staring. _Shit. Shitshitshit. Oh shit_. Robbe had never seen anything so sexy and wholesome in his whole life. They were perfect. He wanted them so much his heart ached. He wanted them to be his. His family. They were his perfect family.

Sander came into focus, and he was gorgeous. The worry lines he’d carried for the last few months had smoothed out in his sleep. His skin glowed, and his brown hair pooled around his head, soft and fluffy, just long enough to look unruly. His shoulder and chest muscles were more defined than the last time Robbe had seen them. Years ago. Had it really been years since he’d since Sander shirtless?

Everything about Sander screamed maturity. The lankiness Robbe remembered had filled out. He was stronger and broader, and Amelia looked so tiny and precious and perfect against his chest. Even his face seemed more defined now that he looked more closely. His jaw was firmer and his cheekbones were more prominent. 

Overall, the effect was breathtaking, and Robbe had literally ceased to breathe. Once he remembered, he gasped for air, eyes blinking madly, trying to ward off what he already knew, what was boiling to the surface, what he couldn’t control.

Something hidden deep inside Robbe had switched on. Something that he’d either hidden himself long ago or that had lived dormant within him now raged to life and overwhelmed him. His entire body felt hot, his throat seemed full of unspoken words, choking him, his chest ached, and the butterflies he’d been ignoring in his stomach roared to life, nearly dropping him to his knees in a mixture of elation and nausea. 

He loved Sander. He loved him. He was in love with him. He’d been in love with him for God knew how long. He’d just never recognized it as such. He’d been so blind. He loved him with every fiber of his being. 

It took monumental effort not to race forward and run his hand through his hair or across his chest. His fingers ached with the desire to touch him, but he held back. That would be creepy and unwanted. Sander didn’t love him like that. _Shit. Shit. Shit._ What was he going to do? He was moving in. They were going to share a bed. He couldn’t let Sander know. It would make him uncomfortable, and then he might have to leave. And he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave now, now that he knew what he wanted, now that he had what he wanted. _Almost_.

This was his family. _His_. They were his. His entire world had shifted, and at the center now stood Sander, a grown man, gorgeous and loving, already a good father, a man he loved desperately with all his heart. And he knew he would do whatever he needed to keep his family.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._

_God, he was so fucked._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and stepping out into a new adventure with me. This fic is completely out of my comfort zone, but I'll try to do it justice. The next chapter shouldn't be too long of a wait.
> 
> Tumblr:  
> @if-music-be-the-food-of love


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